


Impatience

by theartisticfool, trickstarbrave



Series: Mockingbird AU [5]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Cannibalism, Fluff, Graphic Descriptions of Cannibalism, M/M, Present Tense, no it isn't sexual cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theartisticfool/pseuds/theartisticfool, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trickstarbrave/pseuds/trickstarbrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yusei's hungry, and he can't wait for Harald to come home for the night. Unfortunately, this means Harald has to clean up after the messy eater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impatience

**Author's Note:**

> okay look it was really early, i hadn’t gotten any sleep all night, and it was already 8am. but also i was thirsty as all hell and so i felt the need to write this. god forgive me for writing cute ritualistic cannibalism.  
> enjoy this weird sinful ship that i’ve completely lost control over.  
> edit: my favourite part is how you can tell exactly when i stopped caring about it being a Serious Fic™

He’s hungry, he realises with a groan as his hands rest across his stomach. He’s hungry, and even though he’s lying in bed waiting for Harald to return home, he finds the need to slip tiredly out of bed and change into his casual clothing again. It’s too late to go to the restaurant - Brave and Crow have already gone home, and Harald will be closing up any minute - so Yuusei slips out the front door and goes out into the lively streets.

There’s a man that Yuusei recalls Harald talking to Dragan about. Harald wants this man dead - a child abuser, Yuusei remembers - and Dragan said that he’d take care of it tomorrow. Yuusei glances to his cellphone - a quick click of the on button to check the time - to see that it’s just past 2am. ‘Well,’ he thinks to himself, ‘it’s technically tomorrow.’

Yuusei remembers a lot of things about this man: a general description, where he lives, when he’ll be home, and so on. Things that Dragan needs to know, not him. He knows these things, though, and so he remembers that this man often takes an alleyway as a shortcut to his home. Yuusei doesn’t know why, but it doesn’t matter. The Crimson Dragon is growling in his ears.

**Find him.**

And Yuusei does. Finds the tall man heading through the alley as expected. It’s so stupid, Yuusei thinks, that people have habits like this that can lead them into such stereotypically dire situations. He supposes, though, that in this particular instance, it works to his advantage. He _is_ the dire situation now.

Yuusei checks behind him, picking up his pace. No one noticed him, and no one noticed his target either. They’re alone in the alley with no one to intrude upon them. The man turns a corner away from the street, and Yuusei pursues, one silent footfall after the other - one, two, three, four - and the fifth one is cut short as it turns into a leap. The man crashes down onto the brick pavement, but a gloved hand is clamped over his jaws to keep him from screaming. Yuusei’s other hand grips the back of his target’s head; with a swift yank, he hears the sickening crack of a neck breaking, and he feels no more struggling underneath him.

Yuusei removes a knife from his coat pocket - it’s a small one, just something to keep on his person for occasions like these - and he pushes the fresh corpse onto its back. He tears through the shirt with his blade after parting the man’s coat, and once the fabrics are out of the way, he hears his god’s voice rumble through his head.

 **What are you waiting for?** **_Eat him already._ **

Yuusei’s stomach growls, pushing him to begin already. And so Yuusei obliges, opening his mouth and stretching his jaws before sinking his teeth into the corpse’s side. Blood seeps up from the wound, the flow having not quite stopped just yet, and the fluid immediately covers the lower half of his face. He doesn’t mind, instead keeping his focus on the flesh in his mouth. He pulls up sharply, bringing the bite of meat with him as it tears away from the body in a large chunk. Yuusei shifts his tongue around as his teeth close into the flesh again, repeating the motions a few times to move it closer to the back of his mouth. It’s too large to chew properly, and his teeth aren’t even fit for grinding up food without difficulty, so the most he can do is try to soften his meal up a bit. Finally, he swallows, sending the bite down with several gulps into his waiting stomach, shivering when he feels the flesh pressing tightly against the walls of his throat but ultimately sighing once the deed is done. He pauses then, sitting back on his knees as blood drips down his chin and onto his lap. He rubs his stomach briefly, cringing upon feeling the lump of foreign muscle through his own abdomen. He doesn’t linger long, and instead he takes to tearing another mouthful out of the corpse in front of him when the stinging on his right arm turns to burning. Best to enjoy the natural warmth while it lasts anyway, he figures, for it’s quite chilly outside now, and that’ll cool the body off faster.

Bite after bite he fills his stomach while it howls over the blistering wind in the alley. His eyes have taken on a red sheen, glowing faintly as he becomes more and more desperate to take in his meal, his god pressuring him further.

 **More, more...! You can do** **_better_ ** **than this!**

And so Yuusei does better, and he eats more. And more. And more.

He’s stopped paying attention to his surroundings at this point, his only focus not on what he’s already eaten thus far, but rather on what all he _hasn’t_ eaten yet. He’s stripped the torso of its meat, exposing the ribs underneath. He’d crack the ribs and try to take what flesh remains around them, but he decides that such an action would take too much time. He grabs his knife again, glancing to the length of the corpse’s abdomen-

“Yuusei.”

He freezes up, dropping the knife before he can cut away the little remaining muscle across the body’s stomach and set to work on the organs. He normally doesn’t eat those raw, not unless he’s desperate, and while desperate isn’t normally a word that he would use to describe himself, that’s certainly what he is in this moment.

Not desperate enough, it seems, to keep eating in the presence of Harald.

**You don’t need to stop. He’s not going to hurt you, you idiot. Why won’t you k-**

The rest of the Crimson Dragon’s words never make it through to Yuusei’s active conscience. Instead, Yuusei’s attention shifts from his meal onto the former airman standing behind him. He isn’t sure how Harald found him-- isn’t this discreet enough? It seems so unlikely that anyone would happen upon the scene by pure chance, and Yuusei’s certain that no one had followed him-

“I watched you enter the alley,” Harald speaks up as if he had heard Yuusei’s thoughts for himself. “I waited for a few minutes to follow you, and by the time I caught up, this man was already dead.”

Yuusei’s eyes widen briefly. He’s moderately stunned by the fact that he simply _never noticed_ Harald anywhere behind him. “How long...?” he asks softly.

“You were going at it rather avidly,” Harald replies before taking a couple steps forward. His head is tilted toward the ground, watching his feet to keep from stepping in any puddles of blood. The precision is endearing, Yuusei thinks.

If Harald were to offer his hand, Yuusei would take it, but Harald doesn’t - Yuusei knows that this is because of the blood on his own hands - and so he stands up on his own and dusts himself off. He’s hit with a wave of nausea as soon as he’s upright, and he staggers a bit toward the wall to catch himself before he falls. He sees Harald move out of the corner of his eye, and he feels a hand on his upper arm.

“Are you alright?” Harald asks. His voice holds little concern, but his eyes are full of worry. It’s always his eyes that really hold his emotions. Hand gestures and tone and general body language among other things all come together to make a person, sure, but Harald’s depth lies mostly in his dark golden eyes, his irises always seeming to flicker with one emotion or another as if they’re filled with fire. Sometimes that fire is cold, but more often than not, it feels like a hearth in the dead of winter to Yuusei.

He’d made a comment about that once, he barely remembers. The scene in his mind is blurry, hazy, as if the room is filled with smoke and he’s looking through the bottom of a glass. He thinks they were drunk, he and Harald, as they snuggled into each other in their bed. He’d made the comment to Harald then, “I’d go through a second winter if it meant letting your eyes warm me up all over again~” Was that his idea of romancing his not-quite-boyfriend? Looking back on it, he can’t really tell considering he had to have been absolutely _smashed_ to say something as corny as that. Or maybe he _would_ say something like that sober. He hasn’t had the chance to figure it out yet.

In any case, it seemed at the time that no amount of alcohol in Harald’s system would blot out his knowledge of Norse mythology (or maybe Odin was just backing him up; Norse gods were used to drinking deadly amounts of booze, as Yuusei had also learned that night), and so he said, “Perhaps another winter, but you couldn’t survive Fimbulvetr with only me.” Yuusei thinks he had just giggled as his reply - everything else is too jumbled after that.

And so he stares now into those warm eyes again, eyes overly concerned for him - _him_ , some random mechanic-turned-cannibal with a bloodthirsty god in his head - as he stands there with a stomach ache and a sense of vision that makes the world look like it’s spinning on a top. The vertigo’s beginning to settle now, but he still doesn’t feel too confident on his own two legs, like he’s trying to walk on a single flimsy stilt. He doesn’t think too much of letting go of the wall despite that, but when Yuusei’s knees predictably buckle underneath him, Harald is there to latch onto. He’s held close by Odin’s servant, and he can feel slender fingers trailing up and down his back.

“Seems you ate too much again,” Harald teases softly, his breath tickling Yuusei’s ear. “You should really give yourself a break every now and again to let your body adjust to how full you are.”

Yuusei glances toward one of the alley walls. “CD would just make me hungry anyway...” he grumbles in retorsion, and he hears a soft hum of agreement. A sort of ‘fair enough’, in a sense.

“It might save you from needing me to rub your stomach every time you go out to hunt on your own,” Harald reasons. “Can you stand?”

“Mhmm...” Yuusei adjusts himself, pushing off of Harald and letting his body carry its own weight. He stares at the bloody mess he’s made on the ground, and he feels as though both of them are sharing a similar train of thought.

“I’ll take it with me,” Harald speaks up after a quiet pause. “We can let you finish your meal in a cleaner fashion back at the restaurant, alright?” He says this knowingly, fully aware that Yuusei will continue to eat whatever human flesh he can get his hands on as soon as they make it back home regardless of how badly his stomach might be hurting. Before Yuusei can object, he feels Harald’s arms slide behind his back, wrapping gently around his waist. “I’ll cook you up something good.”

Yuusei huffs in a fake pout, annoyed by his own predictability, before standing back to let Harald retrieve the corpse from the ground. He puts his knife back into his pocket, and once the two of them are ready to go, they depart further down the alley to make their way back to the restaurant.

It’s times like these - times when Yuusei’s starting to slip into a state of sleepiness as he walks next to the airman while the lights of the streets and the night sky blend together to create some strange blur of whiteness across the earth and the clouds - that he thinks he could endure a hundred winters if it meant he’d be able to be as lost in Harald’s gaze as he is now. He wouldn’t mind if the prelude to Ragnarok crashed upon the earth and sent the whole world into Fimbulvetr. He would stand in the cold over and over again, just as long as he had Harald by his side.

He knows that Harald is all he needs to live through that.


End file.
